TOW the Body Switching
by writerchic16
Summary: Phoebe’s attempt to stop Monica and Chandler’s arguing causes the two to switch bodies, and, accidentally, Ross and Rachel as well. COMPLETE
1. Prologue

TOW the Body Switching

Summary: Phoebe's attempt to stop Monica and Chandler's arguing causes the two to switch bodies, and, accidentally, Ross and Rachel as well.

Time frame: General season 8. Rachel is noticeably pregnant; Monica and Chandler are married.

A/N: I know this is really unoriginal, but I just really wanted to write it. Yeah, so what if main characters switching bodies has been done a million times? This is my take on it. It'll be quick, I promise.

* * *

Prologue

"I just don't like it."

"Why? There's nothing to worry about," Chandler argued. He and Monica were fighting again. It seemed like they were doing that a lot lately. He had gotten a new female assistant, who Monica had learned of when she called him and the assistant answered the phone.

Although he had to admit it wasn't the only reason they had been going at it. Recently, everything bothered her. He might forget to put away an article of clothing, or clean up the kitchen after she told him to…basically whatever he did, or didn't do, she nagged him about it. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she was pregnant.

Then there was work. It had been really busy, with him getting home later every night. Monica kept saying that she didn't see him enough anymore. He totally agreed, but what was he supposed to do, quit? Besides, it wasn't entirely his fault. She kept working the dinner shift at the restaurant.

"Yes there is." Monica went into the kitchen, where Phoebe and Joey were seated at the table. They had walked into the middle of the argument, and were now watching it like a tennis match, their eyes going between the two. "I mean, normally I wouldn't worry about other women being attracted to you –"

"Gee, thanks," Chandler retorted, his arms crossed. He was in front of the couch, perched on the top of it.

Monica gave him an exasperated look. "That's not what I mea…okay, it is. It's that you've been working late every night. What am I supposed to think?" She took out a loaf of bread from the cabinet and began gathering other ingredients. Joey had asked for a sandwich a few moments earlier and she hadn't gotten around to making it.

"That I have a lot of work to do!" Chandler supplied in a "that should have been obvious" tone. "Mon, we've been married for a few months, and have known each other for at least ten years. I'd hope you would know me better than that!"

"I thought I did," Monica sighed. "We've been at each other's throat's so much that it's not too hard to imagine you…you…"

"Look, Monica, I'm sorry you feel this way," Chandler responded, softening his tone. "I really do wish there were some way you could go to work instead of me so that you can see there's nothing going on! I mean, she isn't even flirting with me! In fact, if I were single I would find it a little insulting!"

"Why? Is she attractive?" Monica pounced, her hand on her hip.

"Oh," Phoebe commented to Joey. "He should not have gone there."

Joey nodded, keeping one eye on the sandwich fixings. "I know, what was he thinking?"

"Is she?" Monica repeated.

"Well…" Chandler stalled, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to be entirely truthful either. "Um…some single men may find her pretty…"

"What do you think?" Monica inquired.

"She, um, she…is nowhere near as beautiful and sexy as you are," Chandler replied.

"Noooo," Phoebe sunk in her chair.

Joey shook his head. "Bad move, dude, bad move."

Monica rounded on him. "But you do think she's beautiful and sexy? On some level?"

"There ya go," Joey muttered.

"No! No no no no no!" Chandler protested. "I –"

"I thought so." Monica slapped the plate, now full with Joey's completely made sandwich.

"Thanks, Mon," Joey murmured, slightly afraid of her at the moment.

"I can't believe you! All this time, 'there's nothing going on, she's totally not into me' and then you go and say she's beautiful and sexy!" Monica shouted, pulling the refrigerator door open. "Juice?"

Chandler winced at her unexpected sharpness. "Huh?"

"Not you," Monica nudged Joey's shoulder. "Juice?"

"Oh, uh, no, I'm good," Joey assured her.

"Okay." Monica slammed the door shut, then ran into her bedroom. Chandler wasn't far behind.

Once the room was quiet again, Joey remarked, "I hate it when Mom and Dad fight."

Phoebe gave a short laugh, but got over it quickly. "Joey, this is serious! I think one more fight like that and they might break up!"

"Pheebs, they're married! Married people don't break up. They get divorced…" Joey's face became shocked. "You don't think they would –"

"Maybe. I mean, Monica is related to Ross, and you know how Ross is," Phoebe reasoned.

"How am I?" Ross walked into the apartment, followed by Rachel. He had to open the door slightly wider – Rachel was at the point during her pregnancy where she could no longer squeeze through small spaces.

"We were talking about divorce, and we thought of you," Phoebe supplied.

Rachel lowered herself into a chair, then questioned, "Why were you talking about divorce?"

"Oh, it's, nothing. Monica and Chandler have just been arguing a lot," Phoebe told her.

"They can't be more than us," Ross retorted. "I swear, Rachel is being such a baby."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I'm _pregnant_, Ross. It's easy to be a baby when there's one growing inside me."

"She's got a point," Phoebe defended. "I should know. Being pregnant is tough. She deserves to whine every once in a while."

"'Every once in a while' is fine," Ross agreed, taking a seat at the table next to Joey. "It's when it's every five minutes. That gets annoying."

"Hey! You wouldn't be so quick to judge if you had to carry an extra twenty-five pounds around your middle without a break," Rachel informed him.

"Twenty-five?" Phoebe asked in surprise.

"Well, I'm 140 now," Rachel began, but at Phoebe's stare she broke down. "Okay, twenty pounds. But it's still heavy!"

"Please," Joey chimed in. "I could carry twenty pounds around all day with no problem."

"Yeah, me too," Ross agreed. "Men wouldn't complain nearly as much if they were the ones who gave birth."

"Oh, really?" Phoebe and Rachel replied simultaneously, both giving him death glares

"Definitely!" Joey supported. "We'd be able to take a lot more."

"Right," Ross nodded. "Like, we wouldn't be asking our spouses to fluff our pillows or get the magazine that's a foot away from them or make us breakfast in bed for a whole week because we can't get up –"

"Well I'm sorry if me carrying your child is inconvenient for you," Rachel snapped Realizing she had nothing to pretend to ignore him with, she asked, "Joey, can you hand me that magazine that's on the counter over there?"

"Sure Rach," Joey reached for the magazine, but was stopped by Ross, who grabbed his hand.

"See, that's what I'm talking about!" Ross smirked, letting go of Joey's hand. "You can get that yourself. It's a few feet away."

"But it requires getting up, which means it might as well be a mile away," Rachel pointed out.

"But you _could_ get it yourself if you really wanted to," Ross retorted.

"No, I couldn't," Rachel protested.

"Yes, you could."

"No I couldn't."

Ross shrugged, leaning back in his seat. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I mean, you are pregnant, so you really can't do anything for yourself, can you?"

Rachel seethed. "Fine, I'll show you. I really can't get it." Putting one hand on the table and the other on the back of her chair, she tried to push herself up. After two failed attempts, she did, in fact, manage to stand. Hoping that Ross hadn't noticed, she quickly fell back in the seat. "See? I can't do it!"

* * *

Phoebe wiped her hands on a nearby towel. "Okay, you're all done."

The attractive, twenty-something man sat up from the table, making sure the towel still covered his sensitive areas. "Thanks, Phoebe. I feel so much better. I must have gotten a knot in my back from working out."

Phoebe was barely listening, staring at his toned abs. "Uh huh. Sure, no problem, Tim."

Tim raised an eyebrow, noticing where Phoebe was directing her eyes. "I'm up here." When she, embarrassed, diverted her gaze he commented, "You know, when your hands were on my back, they seemed a little tense themselves."

Phoebe sighed, sitting beside him on the table. He was a regular client, and the two had gotten to the point where they talked for a few minutes after each session. She was hoping he would ask her out one of these days. "Yeah, sorry. But if you want a refund, it's not happening."

"No, that's not what I was getting at," Tim laughed. "Come on, what's bugging you?"

"It's my friends," Phoebe told him. "Two of them are married, and they've been at each other's throats. I'm worried about them."

"Hm, I think I can actually help you there." When Tim leaned over to get something out of his jacket, Phoebe had to restrain herself from pinching his butt. "My girlfriend is into that supernatural crap."

Phoebe's mood considerably deflated. That's why he hadn't asked her out. _Figures. All the good ones are taken._ "Oh, your girlfriend…"

"Yeah, sorry." He had returned to sitting position, a small rectangular bottle in his hand. "She gave me some of this. She says it's an…'elixir of desire' or something. It grants wishes, or so she says."

"Like a genie?" Intrigued, Phoebe took the vial and examined it.

"I guess." Tim shrugged and took his shirt from where it lay on the couch. Much to Phoebe's disappointment, he pulled it on. "Normally, if you just want something, you drink it and make a wish. But since it has to do with your friends too, they have to drink some. Don't worry, it's all-natural."

Phoebe frowned. "They'll never go for this. They're non-believers."

"They don't have to know," Tim informed her. "My girlfriend was going on and on about this, trust me on this one. Just slip some in their drinks – a little drop is fine. As long as they want the wish to happen subconsciously, it will. The wish just has to be specific. If it's too general it might have unwanted consequences."

Phoebe twirled the bottle around in her fingers, thoughtful. "But what wish would get them to stop fighting?"

Tim gave her a comforting pat on her shoulder. "I'm sure you'll think of something."


	2. Chapter 1

Joey stared at Phoebe, fully delighted. "It grants _wishes_?"

"That's what Tim said," Phoebe nodded. It was the next day, and Phoebe and Joey were in Monica and Chandler's living room. She had been there, waiting for the couple to get home so that she could administer the elixir. He had walked in and wanted to know what she was up to. Phoebe was all too eager to share – for some reason, she wasn't sure that using the potion was the best way to fix her friends' marriage problems. "I don't know, Joey. I was happy about it yesterday, but now…Tim mentioned that it could be a little unpredictable with the outcome. What do you think I should do?"

"It grants wishes?" Joey was still in disbelief, the bottle in his palm.

Phoebe rolled her eyes. "Yes, at least it's supposed to. I haven't tested it yet. All I know is that it's not poison or anything. I have a talent for being able to sniff out harmful chemicals, and believe me, they aren't in there."

Joey raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Really?"

"Of course," Phoebe shrugged. "You learn a lot living on the street. How else can you make sure that your fellow homeless person isn't giving you coffee that's tainted so he can steal your stuff?"

"Wow," Joey admired. "That's definitely something to think about. I mean, I say youtry it.What do you got to lose?"

"Yeah, I guess…" Phoebe had to admit that Joey had a point. Why not? But still, there was that nagging feeling at the pit of her stomach…

"If you want…" Joey began, grinning sheepishly. "I'll try it out."

Phoebe's jaw dropped. "What? Are you nuts? Why would you use it when you don't need to? It's dangerous enough as it is!"

"No, see, I do need it," Joey explained. "I, ah, sorta had this audition this morning. It's probably not gonna happen, though. Two of the other guys auditioning were Will Ferrell and Adam Sandler. I don't have a chance."

"Then why did you go?" Phoebe questioned, curious.

Joey sighed. "There haven't been many opportunities lately. I haven't worked a decent acting job in a while. I felt like I had to do _something_ or I would go crazy."

"Aw, poor Joey." Phoebe empathized, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"No, see, that's where this little bottle comes in," Joey told her, holding it up for emphasis.

"Joey! That's wrong!" Phoebe exclaimed, taking the vial from him. "It's cheating!"

"It's not cheating!" Joey protested. "It's helping Joey get the big break he always deserved! Besides, we need to test it out anyway, don't we?"

"Well, I guess if you put it that way…" Phoebe wanted to help Joey, but in a way that was fair. Then again, Joey had paid his dues in the acting business, and the wish would only be giving him a push in the right direction. He would have to work if he wanted to keep the job. "Okay. Before he left, Tim gave me a few last minute tips. It doesn't take effect until you go to sleep at night. We wouldn't know until tomorrow if you got the part."

"I can wait!" Joey assured her. "Now, come on! Let's make me a star!"

Laughing, Phoebe went into the kitchen and filled a glass with water. Then she uncorked the bottle. She had examined it before, but gave it one last once-over. It was an emerald green, slightly transparent. Surprisingly, it smelled awful. She would have thought that something with the power to grant someone true happiness would give off a sweeter odor. Hoping it didn't taste as bad as it smelled, she poured a tiny drop in the water.

She gasped. It completely dissolved. There wasn't even a hint of green color. She brought the glass to her nose. The rancid smell was gone. The drink now looked like any other glass of water. Not even the most sensitive nose would have picked up the elixir.

_Maybe I didn't put enough in?_ Phoebe wondered, but then disregarded her concern.  
Tim had only said a drop, and she wasn't going to add any more than that.

"Here you go, Joey." Phoebe handed him the glass slowly, not wanting the water to spill.

"Uh, Pheebs, you forgot the stuff." Joey pointed to the liquid, which was particularly clear.

"I swear it's in there!" Phoebe promised. "It dissolved the second I poured it in!"

"You're trying to trick me, right? You don't want me to take it, so you're going to trick me into thinking I did!" Joey accused.

"No, see!" Phoebe cried. "No one's even had it yet and already people are fighting! This is so not a good idea!"

Realizing that Phoebe had been telling the truth, Joey calmed and immediately felt bad. "No, it's okay Phoebe, I believe you! Look, look, I'm drinking it" With that, he gulped the stuff down. "Wow, that was definitely not just water."

"Really?" Phoebe approached him carefully, unsure of the potion's immediate effects. "You feel okay?"

"_Okay_? I feel great!" Joey exclaimed. "That water was not water. It had to be the best non-alcoholic drink I ever tasted!"

"All right, now make your wish. Tim said it you could think it if you wanted to," Phoebe instructed.

"Um…" Joey thought about his word choice for a minute. "I got it! I wish that I get the part…and that I have sex tonight!"

"Joey!" Phoebe chided, slapping his harm. "What did you do that for? I don't know how this stuff works! What if it can't handle two wishes at one time? Huh? What if you messed everything up just 'cause you got a little greedy?"

Joey stepped back, more than slightly scared of his friend's temper. "It was worth a shot!"

* * *

The ring of the phone pierced the stillness of the darkened room. Groaning, Phoebe rolled over and picked up the bedside receiver. _Who the hell is calling at 6:00 in the morning?_ "Hello?"

"Pheebs! You won't believe it!"

Phoebe sat upright in bed, now alert. "Joey? What happened? Did the elixir work?"

"Hell yeah!" Joey replied, joy evident in his tone. "The producers of that audition I went to yesterday called like five minutes ago. I got the part!"

"Oh my God I'm so happy for you!" Phoebe squealed. "God, I can't believe it worked! Do you know what this means?"

"That all our problems can be solved by downing a glass of potion-water?" Joey guessed.

"Well, there's that," Phoebe admitted. "But what's more is that I can fix Monica and Chandler's relationship! Yay!"

"Oh, right."

"Joey, what's that noise?" Phoebe asked. There had been a loud rustle sounding through the phone, like there was someone there with him

"Oh," Joey lowered his voice. "Well, you remember that other wish I made?"

"What wish… _that_ one…wow," Phoebe marveled. "Okay, I'll leave you to your…ah…wish. I'll see you at Central Perk later, 'k?"

"Later Pheebs." Then the call was ended, leaving Phoebe shaking her head in wonder.


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: When I said this type of plot has been used, I meant in general – a.k.a. Freaky Friday and the Parent Trap (okay, so they don't switch bodies, but it's basically the same idea). Anyways, I'll be shutting up now. Thanks for all the reviews!

Oh, and sorry the chapters are kind of short. They'll get longer when they center around each of the Friends' experiences in someone else's body.

By the way, okay, this has been driving me nuts. At this point, do any of the Friends have their own mode of transportation? It's totally not important; it's just at the back of my mind. I know Monica has the Porsche, but what about the others?

* * *

Phoebe dashed up the stairs to Monica and Chandler's apartment, unlocking the door with her key and running into the kitchen. She had left everybody at Central Perk a few minutes early. She needed time to figure out how to give the elixir.

Taking the vial from her purse, she stood still in the kitchen, thinking. She wished Joey was here to calm her nerves, but the new film star was at a press conference. Apparently the producers of the comedy Joey was to be in, _City Life_, wanted to create a stir about the movie before it was even filmed. She really hoped this wouldn't go to his head – they had said that Joey was the perfect actor for the job, but somehow Phoebe could tell it had been the elixir talking.

Looking around, she spotted the kettle on the stove. _Perfect!_ She could tell Monica and Chandler the different taste was a new type of tea. Boiling some water, she poured some into a mug, in which she had already put a tea bag. After she took the bag out, she poured a drop of the elixir into the tea. She then, if a bit hesitantly, brought the mug to her lips and took a sip.

Joey had been right. The tea was amazing. She couldn't even describe the flavor; it was just so great that she couldn't wait to swallow her current mouthful so she could take another. Not waiting another second, she drained the mug,

_Hm, that's interesting…_She didn't know if it was just her, but she could feel the elixir inside her. Now, what wish would she use? "I wish…that my friends could understand each other." That was weird. What had made her say "friends" instead of Monica and Chandler? She shrugged it off. _Oh well. It probably won't make a difference._

"Phoebe, is anything wrong?" Monica, coming into the apartment, asked with concern. Chandler was right behind her. "You seemed to be acting a little strange in Central Perk."

"More so than usual," Chandler muttered.

Ignoring Chandler's remark, that she heard, Phoebe shook her head. "No, I'm, ah…sick! Yeah, I think I'm coming down with a cold. My throat's all scratchy."

"Aw, Pheebs, want me to make you some soup?" Monica offered, removing her coat and hanging it on the back of a chair. She then rolled up her sleeves. For some reason constantly fighting with her husband made her want to cook. Normally she cleaned when she was upset, but the apartment was already spotless, even by her standards.

"I thought we were going to watch that movie together," Chandler reminded her.

Monica glared at him. "You can wait a few minutes to watch a movie while I make my sick best friend some soup."

"But isn't that why I took the day off? So we could 'rebuild our crumbling relationship'?" Chandler had used air quotes on that last part. "And, may I recommend you stop watching _Oprah_? That episode on couples rekindling their love is really starting to bug me, and I didn't even watch it!"

"Well excuse me for wanting to rekindle our love!" Monica snapped, opening one of the bottom cupboards to get a pot for the soup. "At least _someone_ in this relationship is trying rather than fooling around with my sexy assistant!"

"Will you let that _go_ already?" Chandler begged. "And, for your information, I _did_ try! Didn't I suggest we have sex last night?"

"Sex is not rekindling!" Monica shouted. "It's the complete opposite of rekindling!"

"It's not to me! In fact, how can we get any closer? One of my reproductive parts is in one of your reproductive parts! I'd say that's pretty damn close!" Chandler yelled.

"You know what, I'm good! I don't need soup!" Phoebe screeched. "And you know why? Because I have tea!"

This caused both Monica and Chandler to look at her in confusion. Undeterred, Phoebe went on, "Uh huh, that's right. I have here the best damn tea in the world, and you should both have some! Maybe it'll get you two to stop fighting like a couple of five-year-olds!"

Glancing down, Monica and Chandler mumbled, "Sorry Pheebs," and took a seat opposite each other.

"Thank you." Phoebe grimaced, realizing her voice had still been loud. Lowering it, she repeated, "Thank you. Now, a client of mine gave me some, uh…tea flavoring. It's supposed to…relax you, a lot. Afterwards you should be more open to talking instead of bickering." _You have no idea_, Phoebe thought smugly.

Turning to the counter, she poured two more cups of tea. She went to pour some elixir in Chandlers, but her hand was shaking so much from her outburst that not one, but _five_ drops slid in. Gasping, Phoebe quietly panicked.

Hearing the gasp, Monica inquired, "What's the matter?" She really hoped her friend would bring them the drinks so she could get away from Chandler.

"Um, nothing," Phoebe assured her. "I…caught my finger when I shut the drawer. It's not that bad, though, don't worry." Wow, she was doing a lot of lying lately.

Returning her attention to the mugs, Phoebe deliberated what to do. She could always just get Chandler another cup of tea, but she didn't want to waste the elixir. _Hm, putting four drops in Monica's tea should negate four of Chandler's so they're both left with only one…_ Satisfied with that logic, she inserted four drops of the elixir in Monica's tea, then put both mugs on the table. "Okay, drink up."

They both took a sip at the same time. Chandler was the first to react. "Yeah, I'm not much of a tea person, but after tasting that I think I might become one."

"Oh my God, Phoebe did your client say where he got the flavoring?" Monica questioned. If she used it at the restaurant, people would come from miles around just to order her tea.

Smiling, Phoebe replied, "He said it was a home recipe." In her head she was wondering when her wish would kick in.

Finishing her tea, Monica rose from the table. "Um, I think I'm going to go take a nap." She sent a pointed look to Chandler. "Care to join me?"

Chandler seemed surprised at first, but got over it. "Okay!" The two headed into their bedroom, neither bothering to say good-bye to Phoebe.

"Wow." _I guess my negation theory didn't pan out,_ Phoebe fretted. But if all that happened was that Monica and Chandler understood each other a little faster, did she really have to worry too much?

Grinning from ear to ear, Phoebe grabbed her coat and purse, then headed out the door. She was glad that her friends were making up, but she didn't need to hear it.

* * *

"Ross, will you slow down!" Rachel called. They were arriving at Monica and Chandler's apartment a good ten minutes later than their other friends. That was due to Rachel wanting to stop at a few stores on the way there.

Ross plopped Rachel's many bags on the table, then fell into a chair. "I'm sorry, but I can only carry your gazillion shopping bags for so long!"

"Well, you don't expect me to be able to carry them, do you?" Rachel indicated her belly, as if he needed to be reminded.

Ross rolled his eyes. "Here's a tip. If you can't carry it, don't buy it!"

"You're such a wuss." Rachel sauntered over to the table and sat down. Then she noticed the mugs. One was empty; the other was half-filled with tea. "That's weird. Monica would never leave dirty cups on the table."

"Unless she wants to…um, do it with Chandler." Ross pointed to the couple's bedroom. He had heard noises coming from it, and could guess what they were.

"Ugh, that's so gross. It's the middle of the freakin' day!" Rachel exclaimed. Subconsciously she took the semi-filled mug and took a sip. "Oh my God, Ross, you have to try this!"

"What, having sex with you in the middle of the day?" Ross' back was turned, so he hadn't known what she was referring too. He had spotted the green vial on the counter and had picked it up out of curiosity. He could smell it without even holding it to his nose. _That's disgusting!_ Deciding that whatever it was had gone sour, he poured it down the drain.

"No, this tea! It's amazing!" Rachel held out the mug for Ross to take.

After having some, Ross nodded. "I'm actually going to have to agree with you on that. I wonder how Monica made it."

Seeing that there was no reason for them to be here, Rachel pulled herself out of the chair. "All right, I guess I might as well get back to the apartment. You coming?"

Ross shook his head. "No, I have to get to class. You want me to get your bags?"

Rachel smiled at him. "Yeah, thanks sweetie."


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: Just so you know, when I say someone's name in this chapter, it's them in their respective body. Like, if I say Ross, it's Ross in Rachel's body.

* * *

"Ross? Oh my God! Ross, where are you?"

Ross rolled his eyes, flicking his now short brown hair over his shoulder. Then he threw up. Or rather, the him in Rachel's body threw up.

But the fact that he was some how in his roommate's body no longer fazed him. Oh, sure, the first reaction when he saw Rachel in his reflection was absolute panic and terror. However, he didn't have time to scream. His mouth had other ideas.

_Why couldn't I have been switched with Chandler or Joey or anyone else who isn't pregnant? _All he knew was that he wouldn't be able to take another morning of this constant regurgitating. Morning sickness sucked.

It turned out that it sucked even worse when you had company. Rachel, er, Ross launched himself into the bathroom. The Ross in Rachel's body had thought he had seen it all, but that was before his body ran into the room…without him in it. He maintained calm, though. He could tell from the panic on his face that Rachel was only just discovering the switch.

Rachel shrieked upon entering the bathroom. She was used to throwing up every morning, but seeing someone else do it in her body was shocking, to say the least. "Oh God, Ross, is that you?"

He, well, she turned her head to shoot Rachel an annoyed glance. "No, it's Tess Coleman. Hey Anna, what's up?"

Despite the situation, Rachel had to laugh. One night they had been channel surfing and stumbled upon _Freaky Friday_ on one of the movie channels. Quickly getting over the joke, she returned to freaking out. "How the hell can you be so calm about this?"

"Trust me, you're how I was an hour ago," Ross assured her…him…_Crap, this is confusing._ "Or, you're how I was an hour ago…you know what I mean!"

"Oh my God oh my God oh my God!" Rachel began pacing the bathroom, her hands on her hips. Ross grimaced at how girly she was making him look. "How did this happen?"

"Maybe it was something we ate," Ross suggested, puking once again.

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "I doubt that reheated Chinese food would do this to us."

"I think it did it to _you_," Ross quipped, indicating the leftovers that were now in the toilet.

"You know what I was saying," Rachel huffed. "Anyway, the how isn't what's important now. What's important is…how do we switch back? I can't go through the rest of my life as a guy!"

"The feeling's mutual. Only it's worse for me. I really don't want to have this baby for you," Ross confessed, placing a hand on the seat to rest.

Rachel pounced on him. "Oh, but I thought a big strong _man_ would be able to handle it better! In fact, I bet you couldn't get through one day of being pregnant."

"I'll take that bet." Ross wiped his mouth. His stomach was settled, at least for the moment. "And, I just thought of something. _I_ have to teach a class tomorrow! Let's see how you get through that!"

"Wait, hold on, that's totally unfair!" Rachel protested. "I can't teach paleontology! I don't have a degree. I mean, I slept through history class in high school!"

"It's not my fault someone wasn't there to wake you up," Ross taunted. Although Rachel did have a point. If she went to his work, it wasn't just him who would be affected. His students would be cheated out of a class, and his reputation would be at stake. "Oh, by the way, the puppy-dog pout doesn't work when it's on my own face."

"Crap." Rachel stamped her…his foot.

"Fine. If this whole thing isn't fixed by tomorrow, you can just tell my students to outline some chapters of the textbook," Ross offered. "But the other bet's still on."

"So what do I win if you burn out?" Rachel asked. Just because she was in a weird and horrifying situation didn't mean she couldn't get something out of it.

"Fifty bucks?" Ross proposed.

"Yeah…" Rachel almost agreed, but got a brainstorm. "Hah, I know! If you can't take it like a woman, you have to wait on me hand and foot until the baby's born."

"What? That's…that's interesting." Ross paused. He had been about to protest, but then had a sudden thought. "Okay, but if I win, you have to do everything _yourself_ until the baby's born. And I mean your actual self, not your bodily self which would actually be me."

Rachel deliberated for a split second, then stuck out her hand. "Deal."

"Deal." Ross took her hand and shook on it. "It's weird shaking my own hand."

"I know…" Rachel leaned in closer, examining her hand. "Huh, is that a hangnail? I am so giving you a manicure."

"Yeah right." When he realized she was serious, he fled from the bathroom before she could come at him with a nail file.

* * *

The screams and shrieks emanating from Monica and Chandler's apartment could have woken the dead.

"Why do you look like me?" Monica demanded. They had both gotten out of bed about the same time. It only took one glance at each other for both of them to see that something was horribly wrong.

Chandler shook his head in disbelief. "No, _you're_ the one who looks like _me_!"

"You know, there's only one way to solve this." Grabbing his, uh, her arm, she dragged him to the front of the mirror over the dresser. There were not, in fact two Monicas, or two Chandlers, but one of each, as there was supposed to be. However, neither reflection matched up with its respective person.

"Maybe it's the mirror?" Monica tried, putting her hand to the glass, only it to touch the image of Chandler's.

"No, it's not the mirror. _We're_ in the wrong bodies," Chandler announced, turning away from his, well, Monica's reflection.

"But…how?" Monica asked, turning to face him. "What is this, some cruel cosmic joke?"

"Could be," Chandler shrugged. "We have been arguing an awful lot."

"That only happens in Disney movies. This is real life," Monica reminded him. They were both in a frenzy, zipping around the room in panic. "In real life, people who argue do not typically switch bodies!"

"It does make sense though." Chandler had no clue why he was so calm. Typically that was Monica's job. "You know, the whole 'walk a mile in each other's shoes' thing…"

"There's an added phrase to that," Monica supplied. "'Walk a mile in the other person's shoes. That way, you're a mile away and have their shoes'."

"You're not helping," Chandler advised.

"All I know is that this is not…right! I want to be in my own body!" Monica whined.

"This could be a dream…" Chandler pondered. "Maybe we'll go through the whole day, wake up, and realize it never really happened."

"We can only hope," Monica sighed.

"So…what do we do now?" Chandler asked.

"Let's just…call in sick," Monica decided. "We can't go to work like this."

"Why not?" Chandler inquired. "It's not too hard to process data. I do it."

"But if you go to my job, you have to cook. And you can't do that," Monica worried.

Chandler was struck with an idea. "Fine, you can call in sick. But you have to go to my work at least! How else will you check out my assistant?" It was perfect. Monica could go to his job, do all the work he left, and see for herself that there was nothing between him and his assistant. Meanwhile, he would lounge around all day in pajamas and eat junk food. Man, this body switching thing rocked!

Monica considered his argument. "You know what, that's a good idea. It's about time I see what you do all day."

"You won't be seeing much," Chandler warned.

"That's okay with me." Monica was about to say more, but stopped. "Now, if you'll excuse me…" She then left, with the intention of going to the bathroom.

Before she could leave, Chandler called, "You need any help?"

Monica turned to glare at him, thinking he was being funny. "Of course I don't need help, I know how to go to the bathroom…" She cut herself off, understanding what he meant. Technically, she wasn't a woman anymore, so… "Oh, God. This could be a problem."


	5. Chapter 4

"Hey Mon." Rachel strolled into her best friend's apartment, pretending that absolutely nothing was up. Both she and Ross had decided that it wouldn't be worth it to try to convince Monica and Chandler that they switched, so she had to keep her cool. Which, given her very excitable personality, was not easy. "What's up?"

It took Chandler a minute to grasp that Ross was talking to him. "Oh, uh, hey Ross. About that Knicks game next week…"

Rachel looked at him with a perplexed expression. "Why are you going to a Knicks game? Joey had a hot date?"

"Er…yes?" Chandler stammered, dumbfounded. For some reason it hadn't occurred to him that while he was in Monica's body he would have to act like her. "Well, Chandler, uh, told me to tell you to forget about it since my…his boss gave the tickets to somebody else."

"Right…" Rachel stared at him, bewildered. Shaking it off, she inquired, "Anyway, did you save that latest issue of _Cosmo_ for me? I've been dying to read that interview with Brad Pitt for weeks –"

"I'm sorry, I must not have been there when you announced that you were gay," Chandler quipped. Ross was reading _Cosmo_?

"I mean, um, _Rachel_ has been dying…" Finally it clicked in her head. They were both horrible actors. "Chandler, is that you?"

Chandler jumped, then leaned in close to who he thought was Ross, as if his x-ray vision would kick in and he would see who was really inside. "Rachel?"

"Oh my God!" Rachel began hopping up and down, incredibly thankful that she and Ross weren't alone. Enveloping Monica, well, Chandler in a big hug she shrieked, "This is great! It's not just us!"

"Wait a minute, us?" Chandler questioned after ending the embrace. Whether it was really Rachel or not, he was still hugging his male friend. "You mean…"

Rachel nodded. "Yup! Ross is pregnant!"

Chandler was amused by the fact that Rachel appeared deliriously happy at the thought. "He's not so thrilled about this, is he?"

"Nope!" Rachel shook her head. "He's totally miserable! He spent the morning throwing up, and is now making his way up the stairs by himself since he refused my help."

Chandler chuckled. "I just can't get over the fact that we couldn't fool each other for five minutes."

Rachel waved a dismissive hand, once again making Ross look quite girly. "Please. We all know each other so well. If one of us ordered the wrong coffee at Central Perk the others would be suspicious."

"True, very true," Chandler acknowledged. "Hey, I got an idea. Let's mess with Ross and Monica."

Rachel laughed. "That's cruel, yet strangely appealing…let's do it! How about, I'll make Ross look like the gayest cowboy in Texas, and you just be all gal pal with 'Rachel'."

"I have a whole new kind of respect for you," Chandler admired.

Rachel paused, then squealed, "He's coming!"

"God, Mon, did you ever realize how many stairs your apartment building has? There are like a million!" Ross wheezed, squeezing his belly through the door and going over to sit at the table.

"Well, I offered you my help," Rachel taunted.

Ross sent her a look. "I wanted to prove that I have stamina and can do it myself, thank you very much."

Chandler was suddenly hit with inspiration. "Hey, Rachel, do you happen to have a pad in your purse? I've been getting these really bad cramps all day."

Both Chandler and Rachel could barely contain themselves at Ross' reaction. His face had made it obvious that he was completely disgusted. "I don't think so."

"Hey guys, what's going on?" Monica came into the kitchen from the bedroom, totally clueless as to what she was walking in to.

"Oh, just some morning conversation," Chandler answered innocently, causing Rachel to finally burst out laughing.

Monica stared at who she thought was her brother. "What's with you?"

"Nothing," Rachel assured her. With that she walked to the bathroom, making sure she swung her hips, as she would do with her own, non-pregnant body. She could practically hear Ross wincing.

"Hey, Rach, you know who just called?" Chandler asked, directing his question at Ross. He could feel Monica's eyes boring into his skull. "Christopher Jacobson. You remember, Ross was friends with him in high school?"

Rachel didn't really have to go. She had paused outside the kitchen out of sight to allow Chandler to mess with Monica's head for a minute or two. She was glad she did - she knew where he was going with this, and she wouldn't have missed it for the world.

Ross raised an eyebrow. "Faintly."

Chandler gave a dramatic sigh. "Please, how could you not remember? That one New Years' Eve, didn't you and Chris –"

"You know, why don't I make everybody breakfast?" Monica interrupted, going over to the stove.

Ross stood, which wasn't easy. "Hold it! Okay, first of all, why is Chandler cooking breakfast? And, more importantly – what the hell did I ever do with Christopher Jacobson?"

"Oh my God, I remember him!" Rachel chirped upon rejoining the kitchen. "Wasn't he that, like, totally hot senior with the perfect hair and gorgeous smile?"

It took about one second for the siblings to get what was going on. "You know!" This was exclaimed unanimously, reminiscent of when Monica and Chandler's relationship was first exposed.

"So how did it happen?" Monica inquired, turning to Ross and Rachel. "We just woke up like this."

"Us too," Rachel informed her. "We freaked out."

"Well, you freaked out," Ross reminded her. "I was too busy barfing my guts out. Seriously, how do you have any insides left for the next morning?"

"So does anybody have ideas on how to fix this?" Chandler interjected, wanting to move away from their current subject.

"Our plan was to just go with the flow," Rachel answered. "And hope to God that we would wake up the next morning in our own bodies."

"I'm still trying to figure out how this happened, scientifically speaking," Ross scratched his head, causing Rachel's body to look intellectual for a split second. "This is theoretically impossible! Maybe we interacted with some kind of chemical…If we did, in order to switch back, I'm thinking we would need to take the antidote…"

"That's great, Einstein," Rachel huffed. "The question is – what chemical do we need to find the antidote to?"

At that moment, the door opened to reveal Phoebe, who was particularly chipper due to her success with the potion. "Hey everyone." She paused, sensing that the group's mood wasn't exactly cheery. "What's going on?"


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: Yeah, that was kind of a filler chapter, the transition from the beginning to the experiences. Now that I'm looking back on it, some of it didn't make sense, but whatever. This should be much better.

* * *

"Did she find it?" Monica spoke into the receiver with a note of hope in her voice. Once Phoebe walked in the room and was told what had happened, she had broken down. At first the others were reluctant to believe a wish potion had done this to them, especially Ross, but given the circumstances their minds were more open than they had ever been before. Ross was still convinced that the elixir must be some kind of chemical.

Phoebe had apologized profusely of course, the guilt piling on top of her once she learned of what she had caused. Fortunately, she came up with an idea – make another wish to undo the first wish.

There was a small problem. Ross had dumped their one-way ticket to Normal-ville down the drain.

His defense? "It smelled like cat feces! How was I supposed to know we were going to have to drink it?"

So, since no one had any other suggestions to fix the switch, Monica hand gone to work. In a suit and tie. She was incredibly uncomfortable, and had loosened her tie about the minute she got to Chandler's office. She had started to go through some of the work her husband had left for her, and had called him when she couldn't find a file.

He had informed her that they had come up with a plan. Phoebe got the bright idea that she could call the client who gave her the potion for the ingredients and make some more. That had redeemed her somewhat, as the other five now held her in a less than favorable light, since she had cause their whole body switching mishap. They had spent the five minutes after her revelation pounding her with questions and angry comments. But after they blew off a little steam, the group was back together, calmed by the idea that they would be in their own bodies soon.

Unfortunately that comfort didn't last long. Phoebe faced the wrath of the others once again when she couldn't find the client's phone number. Which brought Monica to her current conversation.

"Well, tell her to keep looking," Monica ordered. "I don't think I can take another day of this utter boredom."

"Ah, see, that would be where the beauty of Solitaire comes in," Chandler laughed. "It's the only way to distract you from the dull world of number processing."

Monica sighed. "All right, I'll check back in a while. By the way, when does your, ahem, assistant come in?"

"About ten minutes. And do me a favor, at least appear to be nice towards her?" Chandler pleaded. "I know you think there's some big affair, but I'd rather that the office _didn't_ hear that I'm a lunatic."

Monica rolled her eyes. "Fine. Talk to you later." She hung up the phone, then leaned back in the chair. Truthfully, she didn't fully believe that Chandler was actually cheating on her. But she couldn't stop this nagging feeling that his assistant was a flirt.

Tapping one of Chandler's pens on the table, Monica tried to decide what to do for the moment. It turned out that most of the work Chandler left was actually too complicated to figure out; despite his claims that it was so easy a monkey could do it. Well, as far as she could tell, the monkey would have to be one of those genius ones they use for space missions.

She didn't get it. He always made those comments about how he always did nothing at work; how it was always so boring. But in reality it was hard – all those equations, and trying to ensure she didn't make a typo and enter the wrong number. This made Monica reconsider a few aspects. One of the major points of their fights was that he was staying late at work; her argument was that he really didn't need to and was spending "quality time" with his assistant. There could be the, well, tiny possibility that she was actually wrong. But she wouldn't admit that until she got a look at his assistant for herself.

Since she still had about five minutes before the assistant got there, she closed her eyes. Her memory took her back to when Phoebe stepped into the body switching chaos only an hour ago…

"_What's going on?" Phoebe walked into the kitchen, a little confused at the tense atmosphere._

_Monica had traded glances with the other three, silently debating with them whether to tell her what had happened or not. How could they get her to believe them if they did? Then again Phoebe was Phoebe. But then there was the question of whether she could help them, or would telling her just cause her unnecessary worry?_

_Shrugging off the awkwardness, Phoebe didn't bother to wait for an answer. "Okay. Anyway, Mon, you know that blouse you let me borrow the other day?"_

_Without thinking, Monica replied, "Yeah?" She cringed when Chandler gave her a sideways look. Phoebe was staring at her…him funny as well. "Um, I…never mind." _Nope, no way to recover.

"Anyway,_" Phoebe stretched out the word for emphasis. "I might uh, need to keep it. Now, before I show you this you have to promise you're not going to freak."_

_Helpless, Chandler assured her, "I won't. I can _absolutely_ promise that _I_ won't freak."_

"_Uh huh." Phoebe obviously knew something weird was going on, but proceeded to pull Monica's white blouse out of her oversized pocketbook…to reveal the huge sauce stain on it. "I'm so so so so sorry! I went on this date, and, okay Italian is not the easiest food to eat!"_

_Monica had to tell her heart to slow down. She was in Chandler's body, and Chandler normally wouldn't rip the blouse out of Phoebe's hand and start applying stain remover. But she had to restrain herself when Chandler's only response was, "Okay, I'll just throw it in the wash. No big deal." He then took the blouse from Phoebe and threw it over his shoulder to prove his point._

"_What? Ch…Mon, are you nuts?" Rachel exclaimed. "That was your best blouse! You've gotten lucky on so many dates because you wore that thing…" Realizing Phoebe's eyebrow was practically to her hairline, she held back the feminineness. _

"_Okay, what the hell is going on?" Phoebe demanded, her hands on her hips. "Firstly, since when does Ross have any knowledge of Monica's sex life? That's just…ew!" She then turned to Monica, er, Chandler and pointed an accusing finger. "And secondly, who are you and what have you done with Monica?"_

"_I'm over here," Monica replied, then wasted no time in grabbing the blouse from Rachel and then reaching under the sink for the stain remover. "That's Chandler."_

_Ross, how had been silent for a few minutes, raised his hand. "I'm Ross."_

_Rachel grinned sheepishly, copying his movement. "Rachel." _

"_You switched bodies?" Phoebe exclaimed, surprised to say the least. Then she got it. "Oh, because that would help you…understand each other…yeah." Phoebe bit her bottom lip. "Okay, I have a fun story to share!"_

_Then that's when the chaos started_, Monica reflected. Phoebe explained about the elixir, and the others pounded her with questions. Monica herself was just happy she knew why she was trapped in her husband's body and that there was a way to change them back. Now she could focus better on her main objective for the day.

Which was sauntering into the office at this very moment. At the knock of the open door, Monica glanced up. Immediately in her line of vision was a Puerto Rican woman, with flowing black hair and a close to perfect body. Monica narrowed her eyes – Chandler neglected to mention she could pass for _America's Next Top Model_. Recalling the name she had spotted on the nameplate at the assistant's desk, Monica greeted, "Good morning, Gabriella." She told herself to pay attention for next few minutes, when she could learn the type of relationship Chandler and Gabriella had.

Gabriella wrinkled her brow, confused at her boss' ill-concealed hostility. "Good morning, Mr. Bing. I just wanted to let you know I'm here."

"Thanks," Monica responded, slightly relieved. She had said "Mr. Bing," not "Chandler," which, she hoped, meant their relationship was nothing but formal. Thinking of a way to get more clues, Monica commented, "I like your earrings."

"Uh, thanks." The look on Gabriella's face seemed to reveal that she could tell something wasn't quite right with her boss.

Monica was bewildered. If they were frequently flirting, she would have been sure to return the compliment. But she acted like him paying a compliment about her looks was unusual behavior. Plus there were no signs of any type of crush. She wasn't blushing or eager to please, and was totally calm and collected.

"Is there anything I can do for you before I get to my work?" Gabriella inquired politely.

Monica shook her head. "No, it's okay. Thank you." With that, Gabriella turned and went back to her desk out front, closing the door behind her.

Monica folded her arms across her chest, contemplating the events that just took place. Maybe she _was_ wrong about the being so suspicious. The truth was, Gabriella had only been Chandler's assistant for a few weeks, after his old one quit for another job. Monica gasped softly – was it possible that she was using Gabriella as a scapegoat for their recent marriage problems?

The next few hours went by in a flash. Unable to do most of the paperwork, Monica spent most of the time cleaning Chandler's office. She couldn't get over how messy it was. She had thought some of her tidiness had rubbed off on her husband; apparently that wasn't the case.

To start with, the desk was a complete disaster. Monica was able to keep Gabriella and her developing guilt off her mind as she happily organized papers. When she was done with the top of the desk, she moved on to the drawers, putting what she thought could be discarded Chandler could look through when he got back to his office. By lunchtime, the office was on its way to being spotless.

Unfortunately, it wasn't all cleaning bliss. Sometimes calls came in from Chandler's boss or coworkers. Monica did the best she could, trying to at least sound like her husband if she couldn't answer a question. Basically she spent the morning emphasizing words that shouldn't be and improving her ability to be sarcastic.

Figuring that she deserved a break, Monica glanced at the clock. Sure enough, it was around noon. Monica went to grab her coat and almost went to look for her purse, but soon enough remembered that as a new member of the male species she hadn't brought one. She was near the door when there was a knock at it. She opened it to reveal Gabriella.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Gabriella apologized, seeing that her boss was on his way out. "I just wanted to tell you that I was going to lunch. I'll leave your messages on your desk if you receive any."

Monica smiled. Despite her preconceived judgments, Gabriella was a good assistant. She immediately did what Monica asked, and even asked if she needed something once in a while. Best of all, it was in a non-flirting way. "No, I'm fine for now. I'm going to stop home for my break."

"All right, I'll see you later," Gabriella replied. Then the both went to grasp the door handle. Her eyes seemed to light up as she spotted "Chandler's" ring finger. "Oh, you're married?"

"Um, yeah," Monica answered, remembering that since Gabriella was new, it was possible she couldn't have known Chandler was married. She did call Chandler, but usually it happened to be when the assistant was on break or on his cell phone.

Then, something strange happened to Gabriella. Her smile became wider, and she brushed up against who she thought was Chandler on her way out. Monica followed, locking the office door. Sensing that something was off, Monica asked, "Are you okay? You seem a little…different."

"Oh, no, I'm fine. In fact, I'm great." Gabrielle turned to face her, and Monica was sure if her grin had been any wider it would have reached her ears. She was also running a hand through her hair, ensuring her fingertips touched the ends every time. "You know, you never hang out here during lunch. What do you say we order in? It can be like a picnic." To Monica's chagrin, she actually giggled.

_That slut!_ Monica fumed. Oh, the horrible irony. If she hadn't mentioned that Chandler was married, he'd be fine. But unfortunately Gabriella was one of those women who only went after other woman's husband. What could she do to keep Chandler safe from Gabriella's advances? "Oh, no, it's all right. Maybe some other time." _Like never!_

"Please?" Gabriella shamelessly came closer, putting a hand on Monica, well, Chandler's arm. "Keep me company?"

Monica gritted her teeth, determined to remain calm. _I am Chandler. Maybe I should just fire her? No, then Chandler would think I was being irrational. Wait…_Monica smiled. _Perfect!_ "Oh, I'm sorry, but I have to get home. My _husband's_ a real stickler for me having lunch with him."

To her satisfaction, Gabriella took her hand off as if she were on fire. "Okay, um, yeah, I'll see you after lunch."

Monica waved, "That's _fabulous_. See you later."

On her way out, Monica laughed as she heard Gabriella mutter to herself, "Trust your instincts, Gabby. Always trust your instincts."


	7. Chapter 6

Ross stretched out on the couch, temporarily finding comfort in his new position. Comfort he hadn't felt for a good hour. As he was finding out, being pregnant was much more than carrying around twenty pounds all day. It was feeling a throbbing pain in every limb of his body.

He was alone in his apartment. Rachel had gone over to Phoebe's place, where everybody but Monica, who was at Chandler's work, was assisting her in her search for Tim's phone number. He hoped she found it soon. He was dreading the thought of having to find a way to fall asleep tonight.

Though he was still in disbelief that a wish potion did this to him. He had been known as the skeptic of the group for a reason. As soon as Phoebe made some more of the elixir, he was taking a sample of it and putting it under a microscope. It had to be some advanced chemical accidentally discovered by Tim's girlfriend's family. Or maybe it wasn't an accident. Who knows – one of the girlfriend's descendants could have been a chemist.

At the moment, it was true that _how_ he got trapped in someone else's body wasn't the problem. The problem was dealing with it. Rachel had offered to stay behind and help him get around, but he had declined, remembering their bet. Now he was beginning to regret the bet or declining her help. He had been sitting on the couch all day, unable to get up and move anywhere else. The only bright side that his barfing episode this morning was a fluke, due to her breaking down and consuming a burrito from Taco Bell's last night. Morning sickness had passed a few months ago. At least he wouldn't be chucking up his insides once again when he awoke tomorrow.

He was so _bored_. Rooted to the couch, he had been watching TV for hours. Worse yet, this being Thursday afternoon, there was absolutely nothing on. Not even the History channel could captivate his attention for long. And it wasn't like he could pig out on junk food either. Rachel had given him of list of food items he couldn't have due to temporarily being pregnant. For one thing, he didn't know how she got through life without non-decaf coffee. Or alcohol, for that matter. He was still bitter about the fact that he couldn't grab a beer.

The phone rang. Ross groaned – he was on the opposite end of the couch. Which meant he would be forced to move. _Or…I could always let the machine get it._ Content with that option, he listened for the beep.

Once that sounded, Rachel's…er, his voice came over the answering machine. "Hey Ross! Yeah, I know this sounds really weird hearing yourself when you're not the one talking, but that's what makes this _so_ much more fun! I am totally picturing your freaked-out face in my head right now." Ross rolled his eyes. "Anyways, the reason I'm, well, _you're_ calling – God, this is so fun – is that we need more man…uh, woman power. We're having trouble finding the number and figured we could use your insane logic skills – you know, that whole 'if I were Tim's number, where would I be' thing? Yeah, so since I know you'll refuse my offer of picking you up in your car – which I drove to Phoebe's, by the way – call me back when you find the strength to get up and get the phone. Bye!" _Beep_.

Ross shook his head in complete disbelief. Rachel was taking absolute advantage of the situation; driving his car when she knew it would tick him off, rubbing in the fact that he was pregnant and she wasn't…this was a vacation for her. The world was not fair.

_Although…_He only had to deal with this for however long the switch lasts. She's been pregnant for months and will be for at least one or two more. If he can barely tolerate a day, maybe he shouldn't make such a big fuss about carrying a few measly shopping bags.

Ross groaned as he leaned forward and snatched the phone off the receiver. He knew that she was counting how long it took him to call her back and would be thrilled if he never did. While he had newfound sympathy for her, he would not give her that satisfaction.

* * *

"Not it, not it, not it, not it, wait, this could be…oh, never mind, not it." After finishing going through yet another stack of papers, Phoebe sighed. She, Chandler, Rachel (in their new bodies), and Joey had been rummaging through her apartment for hours. It hadn't done much good. The phone number was still at large, possibly in any drawer, any folder…just, anywhere. What's worse is that she remembered writing it down in her appointment book, and then ripping it out with the intention of transferring it to her separate phone book, where she kept the numbers of all her long-term clients. So not only was it lost, it was on a tiny piece of paper and lost. Which made finding it that much harder.

Chandler shot her an annoyed glance. "You know, Pheebs, you don't have to tell us that every paper you look at is 'not it.'"

"Of course I do," Phoebe argued. "How else will you know that I haven't found it yet?"

"Because…" Chandler thought about explaining the common sense, but then decided it wasn't worth it. "Wow, I never thought about it that way," he deadpanned.

"Can't I…" Joey walked into the living room, where the others were, from the bedroom, on his cell phone. He had been on it all morning. This movie contract was turning into more of a big deal than he thought it was. There were so many press conferences he had to go to in the near future, not to mention interviews and the like. Right now he was on the phone with Estelle, his agent, who was thrilled at his latest stroke of luck. However, she was working him to the bone. "Look, can't the press wait? I have a date tonight, and I might not be available early tomorrow morning, if you know what I mean…what do you mean, you 'don't give a crap'? That's just mean…Fine, I'll be there." He then closed the cell phone in pure aggravation.

Rachel glanced up from the stack of papers she had been going through. "Being a celebrity is tough, huh?"

"Tell me about it!" Serious, Joey threw his phone onto the couch, where it landed between Phoebe and Chandler. "I don't get it! Why is everybody making such a big stink over this movie?"

"Well, the way I see it," Phoebe reasoned. "It's not the movie. It's _you_."

Joey had been pacing, but paused to look at her. "What do you mean?"

"I think I know," Chandler interjected. "Phoebe told me you went up against celebrities like Will Ferrell and Adam Sandler. Those are major actors who have an incredible reputation. You're a nothing actor with…no reputation…well, acting-wise."

"Hey!" Joey protested.

"Hear me out, I'm trying to make a point," Chandler placated. "The way I see it, the press figures that you must be a fantastic actor to beat out them, yet they've never heard your name. I think they are dying to know all about you, and how you avoided their tabloid radar for so long."

Phoebe nodded. "Exactly."

Rachel shrugged in agreement. "Makes sense."

Joey sat down on the arm of the couch, guilt filling him. "Guys…there's something you need to know. There's a reason I got that part, and it wasn't because of my talent."

"You slept with the producer?" Chandler guessed.

"No…well, I did afterwards, but that's not why," Joey clarified. "I, uh, may or may not have made a wish after drinking a potion you are all familiar with."

"Joey!" Rachel exclaimed, infuriated.

"That's cheating!" Chandler yelled. "That's not cool, dude! Not cool!"

Joey backed off the couch, frightened at their outburst. "That's what Phoebe said, but in my defense, I didn't know this movie was going to be my big break! I thought it would just be another part! I had no clue it would change my life!"

Rachel shook her head in disappointment. "The results of the wish don't matter. You still made the wish with the intention of getting an unfair advantage over your competitors."

"What do you want me to do, huh?" Joey demanded, exasperated. "You want me to unwish the wish?"

Chandler thought for a second. "That's actually not a bad idea."

"Yeah!" Phoebe exclaimed. "I'm bound to find that number eventually. When I get some more elixir, you can make a wish to undo the first one. Something like, 'I wish that I didn't have the part anymore.'"

Joey pouted. "But I like being famous! It's so cool! Yeah, I feel guilty, but I get a limo, screaming fans everywhere I go, and girls are coming on to me like crazy! Well, that last one happened anyway, but you get what I'm sayin'."

"Joey…" Rachel fixed him with a cold stare.

"All right, I'll wish it back. But for now…" Joey walked over to the front door. "My public awaits." He then left, closing the door behind him.

A few minutes later, there was a scream from the street below. The three friends looked down. There were at least two-dozen fans out there, Joey in the midst of them. He appeared positively thrilled. Shaking their heads, the three returned to their previous seats. Phoebe asked, "How did they know he was here?"

"I honestly don't want to know," Rachel admitted.

Going into the kitchen, Phoebe opened the fridge to get a drink. Upon shutting it, she noticed that a magnetic clip with several papers in it was about to fall. Sliding it back up, a small piece of notebook paper caught her eye. Delighted, she snatched it from the clip and ran to her friends. "Guys, I found it! I found the number!"

The two gave various cries of joy, and then Chandler questioned, "So, where was it?"

"It was clipped to a magnet on the fridge!" Phoebe revealed. "It was right in front of our faces the whole time! Can you believe it?"

Chandler and Rachel tradedaggravated glances, and Rachel replied, "No, I really can't."


	8. Chapter 7

"Get up."

Chandler slowly opened one eye, half-hoping he was dreaming. His own ticked-off face stared back at him. "Why?"

"We're still in each other's bodies," Monica informed him, stepping back so he could get a better view of himself…dressed in blue plaid flannel pajamas.

"Gee, thanks Mon. I couldn't have possibly figured that out if you hadn't woken me up at seven in the morning and told me!" Chandler wrinkled his brow as his vision became less foggy. He hated those pajamas. He was surprised she found them – they were typically shoved in the back of his sock drawer. "By the way, why are you wearing the pajamas your mother gave me for Christmas last year?"

Monica put her hands on her hips. "Because I wasn't about to sleep in boxers and a t-shirt!"

That made Chandler sit up. "You mean you're…you're…"

"Going commando? Yeah-huh! Those boxers are fun to wear once in a while after sex, but all that extra material gets really uncomfortable," Monica explained, as if the fact should have been obvious. When he made no sign of commenting, she went on, "Anyway, there's a reason I'm getting you out of bed _now_."

"To get revenge for having to wear boxers all day?" Chandler guessed.

Monica rolled her eyes. "No, Chandler, this is serious! I got a call from my boss at work."

"That's typically where bosses are," Chandler quipped.

Sighing, Monica ignored him. "He says there's a critic coming to the restaurant _today_! To sample some food made by _me_! See where this is going?"

"But you can't cook!" Chandler protested, jumping out of bed. "Well, I mean the 'you' as in your body, because the you in my body can cook, which is kind of weird when you think that my body can cook –"

"Chandler!" Monica interrupted. "This critic is important! A good review from him could improve our business ten-fold!"

"But if I cook anything, you'll get a bad review and your business will decrease ten-fold!" Chandler argued.

"At this point, the cooking doesn't matter," Monica told him. "The guy's going to be really angry if the head chef doesn't even show, so we're better off if you make an appearance and suck rather than you not being there at all. As for the food, I don't know, we'll have to make up some excuse."

"What _excuse_?" Chandler questioned, completely terrified of the idea of him cooking for an influential food critic. "That…that…see! I'm so anxious that I can't even come up with a witty retort! That should tell you something!"

Monica paused at that. "Okay, hold on, I think I have an idea. The critic doesn't come into the kitchen to watch me…er, you cook. So you bring your cell phone, and I'll guide you, step by step. It will be like a hands-on cooking lesson."

"Okay." Chandler's heart returned to its normal rate, incredibly relieved they had a plan. However, since he was calm, he noticed a detail he hadn't bothered to think about in the few minutes of being awake. "Um, Mon, I just realized…we're still in each other bodies."

Monica raised an eyebrow. "You _just_ realized that?"

Chandler shook his head. "No, I mean, we're still in each other's bodies, and it's been a full day since it happened. Though I knew Phoebe had to get more of the elixir, a small part of me was believing that this was a dream and, come the next time we woke up, I'd be _me_ again."

"Aw, sweetie, come here." Monica crossed the small amount of floor space between her and Chandler and wrapped him in a hug. Both of them sitting on the edge of the bed, Monica comforted, "I know, believe me, I know. Truthfully, I thought the same thing. The rational side of me doesn't understand this either. But I can't deny the fact that my nails are in desperate need of filing and that, well, what made me a girl is replaced with what made you a guy."

Chandler laughed. "Still can't get the hang of going to the bathroom, huh?"

"It's hard to aim!" Monica pouted. Getting over the momentary lightheartedness, she brought his eyes to meet hers. "Anyway, yes, this is an…incredible situation we're in, but look on the bright side. We can learn about each other more than we ever would have been able to otherwise."

Chandler smirked. "Yeah, like that tattoo you have right above your thigh…"

Monica's eyes widened. "What! I do not! At least, I don't remember…oh God, you didn't!" She then turned Chandler around, intent on seeing what he was talking about.

Chandler turned back to flash her an evil grin. "Made you look!"

* * *

Chandler paced the restaurant's kitchen, becoming more nervous by the second. It was around lunchtime, and so far business had been thankfully slow. He'd only had to pretend to cook – he had been able to get the other chefs to prepare most of the meals, claiming he was saving his culinary skills for the critic. But the critic was scheduled to be here in ten minutes, and Monica hadn't called him back!

He had been able to stay calm for most of the morning. Then, at about 11:30, he had called Monica to remind her that she would be coaching him in about a half hour. That's when he received the terrifying news. She might not be able to help him! Apparently there was some important meeting at his work, and his boss was forcing Monica to attend on threat of pay decrease.

That's when he had remembered. Creators of a new processing program were coming to his company, and his boss was going to try to persuade them to let him use their advanced technology. Of course, his boss was not the best presenter, so he was forcing Chandler to be there for moral support…as well as to do most of the presenting. While he was happy he wouldn't have to do it, he felt bad for Monica, who had no idea what she was talking about. Plus there was the fact that a terrible presentation would not bode well for his job.

But that was the least of his problems that the moment. The critic was waiting outside, and if he didn't deliver for Monica, well, both of their jobs would be on the line by the day's end.

Becoming desperate as the seconds ticked away, he grabbed his cell phone. Monica or no, he had to cook something that wouldn't make the critic want to barf. So, there was only one choice. He had to call for outside help. He then considered his options. Joey could barely make a PB&J, and if Rachel tried the fire department would have to be at the apartment within minutes…there was Phoebe, but he didn't want to distract her from her quest of getting them in their own bodies…that left Ross as his emergency lifeline. He was dead.

Still, at this point he would try anything. He dialed Ross' number, but got his machine. After leaving a frantic message begging for assistance and to call him on his, well, Monica's cell. He finally contacted Ross at Joey's apartment. "Hey Ross, um, I need a favor."

On the other end, Ross was in Joey's kitchen, making a sandwich for lunch. He was bored at his place, what with Rachel getting through one of his classes, so he was hanging out at Joey's. "Monica? What…oh, right, hey Chandler. What do you need?"

"You're never going to believe this," Chandler started, then realized how stupid that sounded when he was in his wife's body. He then proceeded to explain how he was trapped in Monica's restaurant's kitchen, with no inkling of how to cook something for the waiting critic. "So what do I do, man?"

Ross winced. It was strange hearing his sister's voice call him "man." "How should I know? Mon's the cook in the family. The most I could tell you is how to make a grilled cheese sandwich."

Chandler deliberated over this for a moment. "You know, at this point I don't care what the menu is as long as I can make it."

"Chandler, if you serve a critic grilled cheese my sister will kill you," Ross warned him, dead serious. Finished making his sandwich, he carried it over to the recliner with him and sat down. He was exhausted; apparently one couldn't stand long when pregnant.

"Then what am I going to do, Ross, what am I going to do?" Chandler wailed.

"I don't know," Ross answered around a mouthful of sandwich. He then grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. His eyes widened as he got an idea. "Hey, I got it! I just turned on the TV, and the Food Network was on!"

"And…you thought that hearing good chefs would make me one?" Chandler quipped, growing more anxious by the millisecond.

"No, see, don't you get it?" Ross asked. "You said Monica was going to tell you what to do over the phone, right?"

Now Chandler saw Ross' plan. "That's genius, man! You watch the show, then tell me exactly what the guy's doing, and I'll make whatever he's making. If it's not on the menu I'll tell the critic it's a special."

"Well, it's not a 'he'." Ross revealed, watching the show. "It's '30-Minute Meals' hosted by Rachael Ray. She's making an entire meal in less than thirty minutes."

"Which is about all the time I have before the big vein in the critic's temple pops," Chandler informed him. "Hey, wait, Rachael Ray… I've heard of her. Monica likes the show. Rachael's hot."

"Yeah she is," Ross agreed, watching the brunette chef carry an armload of ingredients from a counter to an island. "And she's just starting. It's perfect."

"What's she making?" Chandler inquired, wanting to start getting out the ingredients.

Ross listened, then replied, "Three Vegetable Penne with Tarragon-Basil Pesto and Portobello Mushroom Salad."

Chandler paused, figuring out what the dishes really were. After doing so, he commented, "Wow, that sounds so fancy that maybe the critic won't notice that it tastes like crap."

"No, it looks really easy," Ross assured him. "I'll tell you what she's doing and you can follow along."

"All right," Chandler responded, not feeling "all right" in the least.

"She's starting with the penne," Ross began. "Okay, boil a large pot of water for the pasta."

Chandler paused, panicking. "And I do that _how_?"

* * *

A/N: Heh, couldn't resist giving a little shout-out to my favorite Food Network show. Yes, "30-Minute Meals" is a real show, and the host is actually Rachael Ray. The recipes mentioned were in the episode "No Meat, No Worries." 


	9. Chapter 8

A/N: Sorry this took so long. :( There should only be about two chapters left.

* * *

Ross rolled his eyes, and then spoke in a tone he would use if he were lecturing a child. "Put water in a pot – " 

"Okay, okay, I remember now," Chandler huffed into the phone. He held the phone to his ear using his shoulder while both of his hands searched for a pot. "I can't work under pressure!"

"Dude, in college, you once did a twenty page paper hours before it was due," Ross reminded him.

"That was a term paper. Not _cooking_." Chandler found a pot, put water in it from the sink, and placed on a burner, which he lit. "Got step one. What's Rachael doing?"

"She's…chopping vegetables. Really fast. In fact I'm kind of worried she's gonna chop her finger off," Ross admitted.

"Better a finger than a toe," Chandler murmured. That's one thing he had to get used to with being in Monica's body – walking normally.

"Oh, right, I forgot about that," Ross laughed. "Anyway, she's chopping asparagus spears into two-inch pieces. She's going to mix that in with the pasta, along with zucchini and green beans."

"Ugh, she's making something _healthy_?" Chandler uttered in disgust. Locating the vegetables in the fridge, he brought them to the counter. Then he started chopping some asparagus.

"Oh, by the way, you're supposed to be toasting some nuts," Ross told him.

Chandler paused. "_What_?"

"_Pine_ nuts. You know, roasting them?" Ross clarified. "That's for the sauce that's going to go over the pasta and vegetables."

"Oh. Thanks." Chandler did as he was told after finding the nuts in a cabinet.

After a few minutes of following instructions, Chandler cast a weary eye at the bubbling pasta. "Uh, Ross?"

"Yeah?"

"Is the pasta supposed to be…bubbling?"

"Yeah. That's what usually happens when you boil something."

"No, I mean _really_ bubbling." Chandler was staring at the pot. The flame was a deep red and wide. Water was falling over the sides, and a few pieces of pasta met their doom in the fire.

"What?" Ross couldn't see what Chandler was seeing, but hear the crackling of the flame. "Chandler, I hear it from here! Turn it down, man, turn it down!"

"I am, I am!" Chandler reached for the pot first, figuring it would be better to take it off the flame before it exploded. "Ah, crap!" Quickly turning the knob to the "off" position, he began examining the damage to his arm.

"Dude, are you okay?" Ross shouted.

"Yeah, fine, just burnt Monica's chef jacket." Chandler cursed under his breath, noticing the huge burnt mark. "Maybe I would have been better off if the flames burned me to the ground."

"You probably would have," Ross chuckled.

* * *

"You are so useless!" Phoebe chided, coming through Joey's apartment door. Joey was behind her, carrying a large bag of what Ross assumed was groceries. "I can't take you _anywhere_, Joseph Francis Tribbiani!" Joey winced at the use of his full name. 

Ross, still sitting on the recliner, raised an eyebrow. "What's the matter, Phoebe? Joey use up all your quarters on the fire engine ride again?"

"That was one time!" Joey defended. "After that I brought my own quarters!"

Phoebe shook her head. "No, not that. I was driving all over Manhattan looking for the potion ingredients, and dragged Joey with me to help. I would have been better off if I left him here!"

"Why?" Ross pressed.

"They love me!" Joey exclaimed. "They really love me!"

Ross wrinkled his brow. "Who?"

"My fans!" Joey replied, obviously elated after his experience.

Phoebe sighed, putting the grocery bag on the counter. "They're not your real fans, Joey. They haven't even seen you act in a movie yet! Besides, didn't you find it a little annoying when they kept following us around? It's a miracle we were able to buy _anything_!"

"But it's still so cool!" Joey retorted, then pointed to a spot on his jacket. "One of the girls even ripped off a piece of my sleeve!"

"That's not the point," Phoebe argued. "This wish is getting way out of control."

"It's not my fault!" Joey reminded her. "All I wanted was the part. I never asked for instant fame."

"Maybe that's a side effect," Ross mused. He had spent part of the morning watching _Aladdin_ on Disney channel, and therefore had done some hard pondering about wishes. "Think about it. Just giving you the role would be way too hard to pull off for one measly drop of potion. My reasoning is that it had to compensate by taking some stability out of the results."

Joey stared at him. "Huh?"

"Never mind." Phoebe breathed, pulling Joey into the kitchen. "Now help me with this potion. Might as well make yourself useful once today."

"So what are you gonna make it in? A cauldron?" Ross joked, coming over to sit at the island opposite Phoebe and Joey.

"Uh, duh!" She pulled a medium-sized cauldron from the bag and placed it on the island. At her friends' stares, she asked, completely clueless, "What? Doesn't everybody have one?"

"Oh yes, it's in the back of my cupboard next to the eye of newt," Ross deadpanned.

Phoebe's eyes widened. "That's where mine usually is!"

Now a little freaked out, Ross changed the subject. "So what did your client say about this elixir?"

"Well, I talked to his girlfriend, since she's the one who gave him the potion." As they chatted, Phoebe set up various ingredients after Joey unloaded them from the bag. "She said she was really sorry, by the way. She told Tim to be careful with it."

"I'll accept her apology when I'm no longer craving sardines and ice cream," Ross informed her.

"What's so bad about sardines and ice cream?" Joey asked, serious. "It's the best!"

Phoebe rolled her eyes. "Anyway, she was telling me all about this potion. Her great-grandmother created it and the recipe. It was a total accident too. A few of her herbs fell into her cooking pot and bam!" She smacked her palms together for emphasis. "All we gotta do is mix these herbs we bought and you'll be a card-carrying member of the opposite sex in no time."

"And not a second too soon," Ross replied. "I'm actually starting to feel comfortable in Rachel's thong."

"Couldn't you wear panties?" Joey reasoned.

Ross shrugged. "I dunno, she didn't have any clean panties and I didn't want to bother to go all the way to the Laundromat…" He paused at his friends' stares. "Being pregnant is tough, okay?"

Phoebe chuckled. She had been carefully measuring, then adding ingredients while they had been talking, and was almost done. "All right guys, this is the last herb. Back off!"

Ross raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"Tim's girlfriend said that the potion packed a punch when you completed it," Phoebe explained. "So back off."

"Okay." Joey moved a few steps backwards.

Ross stayed put. "Phoebe, that's impossible. There's no heat. You just have a bunch of herbs in a bowl. There's no way –"

He was cut off as Phoebe dumped in the last herb. A mini-explosion erupted from the cauldron, causing Ross to nearly fall off his chair.

Joey's eyes widened. "Cool!"

At Ross' shocked expression, Phoebe shrugged. "I told you to back off."

* * *

"Good afternoon, class," Rachel began. At NYU, she was standing at a podium in front of about fifty students. The first time this happened, she had been a nervous wreck. Now, two classes later, she had the "substitute" teacher thing down pat. She had been a little jumpy, but after fumbling once or twice and earning a few laughs, she played the part of "Ross Geller, Distinguished Professor" perfectly. Maybe she should have gone into acting. 

Mumbles of "Good afternoon, Professor Geller" rippled through the crowd. Clearing her throat, she instructed, "Today, I'm just going to have you do some quiet work. Spend this period doing tonight's assignment, which is outlining the next two chapters." _The next two chapters? God, Ross, if you had been _my_ teacher in college I would be rolling paper for spit balls._

Therefore, she wasn't surprised when one hit her head. Removing it from her hair and throwing it in the trash, she laughed. "Okay, I'm not even gonna bother asking who threw that. Nice aim, by the way. Though if you had narrowed the angle you probably could have hit my eye."

Silence. Rachel mentally smacked herself. The kids weren't used to a laid-back paleontology teacher. One student raised his hand. "Um, dude, are you drunk? 'Cause I don't think you're allowed to teach while under the influence."

Rachel chuckled. "Um, no, this is just me when I'm in a good mood."

The students weren't buying it. Another female student squealed, "Professor Geller got lucky last night!"

As the class erupted into laughter, Rachel shouted, "All right guys, you've had your fun, now get to work."

Eventually, they did quiet down. Rachel spent the minutes perched on Ross' stool and reading one of the romance novels she had brought with her for the day. She hid it behind the podium of course; she didn't want his students to think he had turned gay on top of being wasted.

A short while later, Rachel heard music coming from a personal player among her students. Knowing that Ross would never allow it, Rachel ordered, "Okay, whoever has the MP3 player, turn it off." It was silenced, and she returned to her book.

Then more music came from a different student. Getting that they were testing her, Rachel stood firm. "Come on, guys, don't play with me. _Turn it off_."

The student who had the music on the second time asked, "Can I keep it on if I lower it so nobody else can hear?"

Rachel considered it. She knew Ross would have been Mr. Party Pooper and made him shut it off anyway, but she honestly didn't see anything wrong with the idea. She used to listen to music while she studied all the time in college. "Um, yeah, sure, why not."

She winced as about every student took out his or her MP3 players. _Of course, I_ failed_ most of my tests in college…_

It all went downhill from there. People started talking on their cell phones, watching DVDs on their laptops, and using their PSPs. Apparently giving the students one tiny luxury resulted in total chaos. _No wonder Ross has to be such a tight-ass._ "Guys, can you put the electronic devices away, please?" Her request fell on deaf ears. Well, ears covered with earphones.

Taking a deep breath, she screamed, "TURN OFF EVERYTHING NOW!"

That got a few of the students to remove their earpieces and give her an annoyed look. A guy in the front row inquired, "Dude, what's your problem?"

Rachel put her hands on her hips. "My _problem_ is that you're all supposed to be quietly studying. The sounds from the cell phones and video games are making me crazy!"

He shook his head. "Yeah, give it up man. We were just gonna do our homework anyway. Wanna play poker?" He held up a deck of cards.

Realizing he was right, Rachel gave a helpless sigh. "Deal me in."


	10. Chapter 9

A/N: Yes, I'm alive! I'm soooo sorry I haven't updated in like forever. And I feel really bad, 'cause you waited so long and all I'm gonna post is this wind-down chapter and the epilogue. But on the bright side, I just saw Zoom with Courtney Cox, and her also playing Monica gave me an idea for a crossover short chapter fic…It might be a bit of a stretch, but I think I can make it work.

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"It's done, guys!" Phoebe announced, holding up a bottle of the green liquid.

They were at Monica's apartment after what everyone agreed was a very, very long day. Monica and Chandler were sitting on the couch, holding hands and looking at Phoebe with relieved smiles on their faces.

Ross was in the easy chair…he whined that he had no idea how Rachel managed to sit in straight backed chairs while carrying an extra twenty pounds.

Joey was leaning on the back of the couch, catching his breath. He had made a run for it after being attacked by a mob of screaming fans. After two days of being famous, he was ready to climb back down the ladder of success and climb back up the right way.

Rachel hadn't arrived yet. They had all figured she was running a little late, keeping themselves occupied watching Phoebe put the last minute touches on the potion. Now they were starting to worry.

Giving her a hug, Joey exclaimed, "That's great, Pheebs! I never thought I say this, but…I don' wanna be famous!"

"Okay, Joe, hard to breathe here." Phoebe pushed her friend off, then motioned for everyone to come into the kitchen. "Come on! Rachel can take it later!"

They didn't need to wait too long, however. A few minutes after Phoebe got the tea ready, Rachel burst through the door, piss drunk. She nearly fell over as the door swung open, and stumbled over to the kitchen table. "Hewo everbosy!"

Horrified at the sight of his drunken body, Ross jumped up and went over to her. "What the hell happened! Please tell me you weren't like this in front of my coworkers!"

"Of course I wasn't, silly," Rachel assured him, a playful grin on her…his face. "I was like this in front of you _students_! They throw a really _great_ party!"

Ross gaped at her, terrified. "Oh God…they had a party…right there in the classroom?"

"Oh, no, the class was a _total_ bust," Rachel shook her head, but didn't seem too bothered by the fact. "I won a few hands of poker, and this guy brought in a six pack. I told him he couldn't have it here…see, I was responsible…and we moved the party to his place! You, my friend, are now the coolest professor on campus! See what I do for you?' She then collapsed in his arms.

"Oh my god…Chandler…I mean Monica…oh, forget it, Joey, get over here!" Unable to hold Rachel due to his belly, he passed her to Joey, then fell into a chair. He put his head in his hands. "My career is ruined."

"Hah, bet you're glad you're not you now," Phoebe quipped, then lowered her eyes at the others' stares. "Okay, well, drink up!"

Monica and Chandler each took a mug, then looked at each other. They had come to their individual understandings during the day, and made a silent promise to talk once everybody was gone. Phoebe had said they didn't need to say their wishes aloud, so they clinked their mugs and gulped the tea down.

After Phoebe handed him his mug, Ross gave one last glance at his own body and chugged the tea. He then took Rachel's. Putting it on the table, he revived Rachel. Convincing her the tea was a new alcohol, he got her to drink it, albeit sloppily.

Taking his own mug, Joey hesitated. On one hand, he was thrilled that he would be able to go out in public, but on the other…Swearing to himself that he would one day reach that level of success on his own, Joey finished off the tea in seconds.

Remembering she would need to drink the tea too, Phoebe took the last mug. As her friends watched on, she drank it, and made the wish.

All feeling tingly inside, they put their mugs in the sink. Saying their goodbyes to Monica and Chandler, the rest left the apartment, making an agreement to meet at Central Perk first thing in the morning. Hopefully, all would be getting there in their own bodies.

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By the time they got back to their apartment, Rachel was much more sober. She was confused at first, then figured the potion must be an anti-hangover medicine as well. No doubt there was still a buzz, but her head had stopped pounding in the car. And she definitely felt it when Ross rounded on her once he shut the door.

"What the _hell_ were you _thinking_?"

"I'm sorry!" Rachel cried, tears welling. She held them back with all her might – it wouldn't help her case to make Ross' body cry. "I don't know what happened! This guy wanted to use his music player then the whole class used theirs and they started a game of poker and…I couldn't stop it, Ross, I just couldn't! I'm not a teacher!"

Ross stared at her for a long second, then finally put an arm around her shoulders and guiding her to the couch. "Sh, it's okay. I guess I understand, it's just…these are the people I see every day, Rach!"

"I know, I'm sorry," Rachel repeated, blowing her nose on a tissue Ross handed her. "I think …I think it had to do with the fact that I haven't been able to party in, like, _forever_! When those guys started talking about going out and getting a drink, it sounded like so much fun!"

Ross considered her argument. After spending time pregnant, and not being able to have beer, he was anxious to get back into his body. But Rachel…she was going back into _this_ body, back to being pregnant, and would stay that way for a few months. "I guess I can't be too mad at you. I mean, you got through my other classes okay…right?'

"Oh, yeah, it was just that last class," Rachel assured him. "It's probably 'cause it was the last class on a Friday. If I had it, I wouldn't even…it wouldn't even be one of my favorite classes." She caught herself, not wanting to be chided for her old college habits.

"Yeah, it couldn't have been too easy being me," Ross remarked.

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and it was so easy being me?"

"Well…" Ross hesitated. He could lie, say it was a piece of cake. But he didn't want to win the bet that way. He would feel way too guilty watching her struggle as her pregnancy progress, especially after he experienced it. "It was a nightmare. I can't wait to get into my good old, not pregnant body."

Rachel felt an 'I told you so' on the tip of her tongue, but restrained herself. "Yeah, I guess I can't wait to be my old self either."

He studied her expression. "Does that mean I'm off the hook?"

"I think it's only fair," Rachel replied, smiling. "You have to deal with a bunch of kids every day. You don't need to baby-sit another one when you get home."

"Thank you. But I won't complain when you ask me to do stuff for you anymore. I promise." He almost kissed her cheek in relief, but remembered in the nick of time that he would have to kiss his own cheek. The two sat there for a moment, then Ross stood. "I'm exhausted – I'm going to bed early. 'Night."

"Good…you know, Ross," Rachel began. She was eager to sleep off the alcohol, but for some reason she didn't want to be alone just yet. "You want to watch a movie or something?"

Ross paused, then joined her on the couch and grinned. "You couldn't have asked _before_ I got up?"

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"They're gone," Monica sighed, relaxing with Chandler on their couch. She turned to him, a sympathetic frown. :"How was your day, honey?"

Chandler rubbed his eyes. "You don't want to know."

"Oh God…you screwed up for the critic, didn't you?" Monica flopped back on the couch. "I can't believe it, Chandler! I work so hard, then this one critic is going to ruin my restaurant's reputation all because I wasn't in my own body!"

"Oh, no, it's not that," Chandler interjected. "It went fine, Didn't I call you?"

"No."

"Well, I called Ross," Chandler explained, "and he put on the Food Network. I made the recipe the chef on TV was making, and if I do say so myself, it didn't bomb too much."

"Really?" Monica's eyes lit up, then thought for a second. "What didn't you want me to know?"

Chandler moved to the other end of the couch, hopefully out of slapping range. "You may want to invest in a new chef's jacket when you get back on Monday."

"What did you…" Monica trailed off, then waved a hand. "Never mind. As long as the critic liked it, I don't care. The only thing is, I'll have to add whatever you made to the specials menu." She then gave him a grateful look. "Thank you, honey. You didn't have to od this for me…I _may_ have exaggerated when I was talking about the critic's reputation."

"I figured you were, but I did it anyway," Chandler remarked.

Monica sighed. "No, I mean it. After how much we've been fighting, I thought I would have to drag you out of bed kicking and screaming before you agreed to do it. I can't figure out how to…well, repay you."

"'Dragging you out of bed kicking and screaming'," Chandler grinned at her, playing out the sexual fantasy in his head. "I think you just did."

"Shut up." Monica playfully smacked his arm. "So, you wanna know how your meeting went or not?"

"Truth? 'Or not.'"

"Chandler!"

"Fine, I'm all ears."

"It went off without a hitch," Monica stated, pride in her voice. "Of course, I had to reorganize everything first, and your boss is a total wuss."

Chandler laughed. "My office is _clean_ isn't it?"

"You know me so well."

"By the way," Chandler started, "You never told me what you thought of my assistant."

"Oh…" Monica stared down at the floor. "Well…she thinks you're gay."

"Well, who doesn't," Chandler deadpanned. "What gave you that idea?"

Monica took a second deciding if she should tell him about Gabriella, but then figured that he was better off not knowing. "What I meant was, I realized that I never had to worry about you. It was all in my head. I was…I was…"

"Wrong?" Chandler smirked.

"_Not_ wrong," Monica corrected. "Just…transferring my frustration at not getting to see you often to Gabriella."

"Transferring emotions, huh? Someone's been watching _Frasier_," Chandler quipped.

Monica chuckled. "You know what I meant."

"Yeah," Chandler sighed. "And I think I don't help by being inconsiderate of your cleanliness obsession. How about I try to pick up my clothes, and you try to take earlier shifts?"

"Will do," Monica agreed. She wanted to kiss him so bad, but she kept seeing her own face. She blinked, looking down.

"What?"

"I want to kiss you, but you're not…you," Monica explained.

"Same here," Chandler admitted. "In fact, I have no idea how I'm going to sleep next to you without going _insane_. In fact, I think I'm gonna sleep on the couch."

Unable to sit next to him, Monica got up. "Good, and I promise I'll make it up to you when we're back in our own bodies."

"Can I get that in writing?"

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And that's it! You waited all this time for that, hehe. Next chapter's the epilogue.


	11. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Squinting against the morning sun, Monica blinked. _Since when was the window in our bedroom this huge?_ She rolled over…and crashed onto the carpet.

Carpet? When she laid down last night, she was snuggled between the sheets. How…why…

And then it clicked.

"Chandler!"

Monica sprung to her feet and dashed into the bedroom. She was about to go shake him awake when she passed the mirror. Her eyes widened.

She was herself again.

Staring back at her was her _own_ reflection. She ran her fingers through her own long hair, then wrapped her own womanly arms around herself in pure happiness. Never in her life had she been so blissfully happy to be _herself_.

"Chandler, get up!"

"Five more minutes…" Chandler mumbled, then his eyes shot open. The voice he spoke with was his own masculine voice! He hopped out of bed and ran next to Monica in front of the mirror. "Oh my God!"

"I know!" Monica cried.

"Oh my _God_!"

"I know!"

"This is great!" Chandler exclaimed, unable to take his gaze off the mirror. "It worked! I don't think I've ever been so glad to be me!"

"Come here, you!" Monica grabbed his face and planted a big kiss on his lips.

"Oh…" Chandler moaned. "Yup, that definitely would have been weird when we were switched."

"I love you," Monica laughed, kissing him again.

"I love you too," Chandler breathed, then after a second commented, "You know, I don't think us switching bodies was so bad."

Monica thought for a moment. "I guess so. It wasn't totally awful being you, and we _did_ fix our problems. Though I think I could've done without going to your work."

"Yeah, but at least you only had to suffer the boredom for one day," Chandler joked.

"Stop doing that!" Monica pleaded. "Chandler, you work _hard_ all day. I saw what you had to do – it's not easy! I haven't seen anything like that since the last time I took math in college!"

Chandler shrugged. "In your defense, Ross told me you took remedial math…"

"Why do you do this?" Monica demanded. "Why do you always degrade yourself like that?"

"I don't know…" Chandler sighed.

"There must be a reason."

"I guess…I guess I didn't want people to think I care enough to put effort into a meaningless, suck-ass job," Chandler finally admitted. "I didn't want to be thought of as one of those people who actually care about the W.E.N.U.S. or A.N.U.S…."

"I see your point," Monica interrupted. "But you shouldn't be worried about that. Stop worrying about what other people think."

Chandler stared at her. "I'm sorry, have we met? My name's Chandler."

Monica chuckled, then realized he did have a point. "If you can't do that, then wouldn't it be better for people to think you work hard at what you do, no matter what it is?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"It is important!" Monica insisted. "One of the reasons I even thought you might be cheating on me was because I thought your work was easy! 'Hey, if it's so easy, why's he staying so late?'"

Chandler raised an eyebrow. "You really thought that?"

"Can you blame me?" Monica retorted, a bit defensively.

"I could, but it would be wrong." Chandler put his head on hers when she leaned on his shoulder. "I'm sorry…about everything."

Her head still resting, Monica sighed. "Yeah, I am too. The whole assistant thing, and the nagging…thanks for putting up with me."

"Any time, babe."

Monica's gaze fell on the unmade bed. "You know…we have a good hour before we have to meet the guys for breakfast."

"Nothing like a good round of sex to start your day," Chandler agreed. "Especially when you're the right gender."

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"Good morning, sunshine."

"Huh?" Rachel opened her eyes, pushing herself to a sitting position on the couch. Her head ached in protest from the night before. "Ouch."

Ross sat down next to her, holding a tray with her breakfast as well as two aspirin and a large glass of water. He indicated the pills. "Thought you might need these."

"What?" Rachel blinked a few times, clearing her vision. She yelped when she saw Ross' face staring at her. "Oh my God! You're you! I'm me!"

Ross grinned. "Yeah, and you know the best part?"

"What?"

"_I'm_ not the one with the hangover," Ross reminded her. "I was afraid I'd wake up like you, but lucky for me, the alcohol effects got switched when we did. I have no idea how, but…oh well."

"Yeah, lucky you," Rachel muttered.

Ross tilted his head. "Think about it. How mad at you would I have been if _I_ woke up with a hangover when I didn't even drink?"

"I guess you're right. I deserve it." Rachel took the pills with one big gulp of water. She looked down, and was almost a little surprised to see her pregnant belly. Closing her eyes, she sighed, "Oh, forgot about that."

"Hey, look on the bright side, it's only a few more months," Ross comforted.

Rachel lied back down on the arm rest. "I know, but after _not_ being pregnant…it was kind of like going on a vacation that you never want to end."

"Don't I know it," Ross noted. "It feels so good to be me again that I want to run ten miles. In fact, I think I will."

"Go ahead. Thanks for breakfast." When he was almost at the door, Rachel noticed that there were at least eight pancakes in the stack. "Wait, weren't you going to eat too? There's enough for three people here!"

Ross paused, wrinkled his brow, then nodded. "Oh, sorry about that. It's just that the last time I made pancakes for someone was Monica in high school. Old habits are hard to break."

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Phoebe was sitting at the counter at Central Perk when Ross jogged in.. She got up and studied his face. "Are you still Rachel?"

"Nope!" Ross shook his head. "The Rossitron is back!"

Phoebe smiled with satisfaction. "Oh yeah, it's definitely you. Rachel wouldn't be caught dead saying "the Rossitron.'"

Ignoring her, Ross spied an attractive woman pass outside the window. "Hey, that's a hot girl! I'm going to go hit on her, because _I can_!"

"Well, it's official." Joey came in a few minutes later. The two moved to sit on the couch to hold the spot for the others. "I'm not the star of a movie anymore. The newspapers claimed that the computer made a mistake and I wasn't supposed to get the part in the first place."

Phoebe put an arm around her friend. "Aw, poor Joey. At least everything's back to normal. Ross just came in here, and he wasn't pregnant."

"Good, 'cause Ross was kinda starting to worry that he was gonna have to deliver the baby," Joey laughed..

Phoebe's gaze has shifted to the door. Rachel was coming in, followed by a dejected Ross. "Okay, there's Ross and Rachel." She checked her watch. "Hm, Monica and Chandler are running a little late."

As Rachel joined them on the couch, Joey asked, "Hey, Rach. How you feelin'?"

"Pregnant. Enough said," Rachel answered.

Monica and Chandler soon completed the group, he on the easy chair and she on the couch. Phoebe raised a suggestive eyebrow. "Good morning. You two sleep in?"

They traded looks before Chandler replied, "Let's just say we were celebrating the fact that we were in our own bodies."

"Right…" Phoebe cleared her throat. "Uh, guys? There was a reason I wanted you here. I, uh, just wanted to say how sorry I was, and can we forget the whole thing ever happened?"

The rest accepter her apology, and Monica added, "But I don't want to forget this ever happened. It was...interesting."

"I'll say," Ross murmured.

"Actually, I enjoyed it," Rachel put in.

Chandler smiled. "It was a learning experience for me. Now I can make pasta!"

Phoebe was beaming. "So…you're not mad at me anymore?"

"No, in fact…thanks Phoebe," Monica replied. "You really did help us. When this first happened, all I could think about was wanting my body back."

"Right," Ross agreed. "But if you think about it, would we really have been able to solve our problems any other way?"

Phoebe thought for a minute or so. "Hm, maybe I should keep a bottle of the stuff on hand at all times…"

Joey put a hand on her shoulder. "Pheebs, I love you, but if anything like that happens to me again, I might have to kill you."

"I think what Joey's trying to say is…" Chandler added. "If you ever do anything like that to us ever again, you're going to have to find new best friends."

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That's it! The end! I finally finished it! Yay! Don't worry, though, I'm sure I'll start a new Friends chapter fic soon…


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